The Guest
by shat-ze-fack-ap
Summary: Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger’s home.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Guest

**Rated:** M

**Summary:** Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger's home.

**Chapter 1**

She strained her eyes apart. This was definitely not working out. Sleep tonight was hopeless. In a futile attempt, she patted her pillows and positioned herself in a ball with one pillow between her legs. Minutes later, she groaned knowing that any effort to sleep was highly impossible. She gazed at the bright red alarm clock and read the time: two in the morning. Once again, she gave a groan. She might as well get up and read a book for the rest of the night. Reading books were the only option she had after a restless night and besides she needed to catch up on some of her paper work at the Magical Law Enforcement Department.

She threw off the covers and slipped into her fluffy slippers. On her way towards the door, her reflection through the wall mirror stopped her. Her hair was in a mess beyond repair due to her tossing and turning on the bed. Being the self-conscious person that she was, Hermione Granger tied her hair back in a loose bun with a black hair-tie lying on her dressing table. She gave a small smile to hide the depression brought upon her for the night and left the room. She walked quietly, trying to not disturb anyone else from their sleep as she made her way to the small study hall. The door must have been closed because she ended up slamming against it due to the dark hallway. Hermione let out a silent curse as she stumbled back.

"Merlin, watch where you're bloody going Granger," someone sneered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as an outline of the last person she wanted to stumble across came to view. It wasn't the door that she had collided against but his hard chest. With that acknowledgement, first thing she wanted to do was wrap her slim fingers around his neck and choke him to death but that was not going to happen.

She had to keep herself composed as she politely asked, "what are you doing out here?" She wanted to add, "Was sleeping on the couch not at your suitable taste?" remembering how much he argued with her for an hour why he should get her bed and she sleep on the floor. As if Hermione would ever allow that to happen. She would have offered to transfigure the couch into a bed, since his wand was withheld but having him around was enough to get her arrogant side out. Too bad, she thought, if he wasn't in bad terms with her she wouldn't mind lending him her bed.

"Couldn't sleep so here I am," he sighed before entering the study room, Hermione right behind. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, she was the one who wanted to spend some time in the study room and read. After all, he was the one keeping her up and he was planning to irritate her further by being in the same room as her?

She wanted to scream. All horrid thoughts of slaughtering the king of vanity alone could not help the fact that she was stuck with him. Since when did protecting a brute become an obligation? It was Draco Malfoy after all, the only person that could single-handedly boil her blood over a hundred degrees Celsius. Wasn't that fact alone enough for Albus Dumbledore to hand him off to someone else? Did Dumbledore want her to go insane by morning? That must be the only possible reason he gave her the duty to take care of Malfoy. Taking care of someone like him consisted of head-aches and a soar throat by the next day, surely Dumbledore must have been out of his wits.

Even though Hermione cursed under her breath and avoided any eye contact from the brute that sat on the arm chair, it didn't change the fact she was to protect him. No one outside of the Order of The Phoenix could know of his residence at her apartment. He was to reside here until Mad Eye Moody came for him in the morning. And since she had to deal with his existence for eight hours, she decided to drop her utter defiance of the idea to settle him in for the night.

Hermione was no entertainer and in no mood to converse with Malfoy. Therefore, the only option they both had was to call it a night early when they got to her place. But that alone couldn't change her lack of sleep tonight. Having Malfoy in the same place caused a nervous breakdown. Whether she liked it or not, she didn't want him in the hands of Death Eaters who were searching for him, to kill. And even if he gave her enough problems, protecting innocent people –however odd it is to place his name under it– was her duty. She noticed his piercing eyes on her as she glanced through titles on her small bookshelf. Once her back was to him, she gave a shudder –a delayed reaction– to his glare. She couldn't understand how he could be so obnoxious by just watching her. What a terrible guest to have, she thought.

She was unable to find fresh new material to read, so she lazily picked up _Notable Magical Names of Our Times_. Instantly she found herself enthralled by the book as she found herself a seat on the couch, farthest away from Malfoy. Half way down the page, she heard a creaking sound and looked up. She found Malfoy leaning back on the chair raising the front two legs up as he watched her. Hermione considered that childish and quickly gazed away. She didn't even finish a sentence when she heard that sound once more. This time not looking up she asked, "Can you please stop that?"

"Stop what?" Malfoy replied innocently. Hermione slammed the thick cover of the book shut and glared at him.

"That annoying sound you are making!" She gritted.

"What sound?" he continued.

"Malfoy, don't play stupid with me. That sound with the chair!"

"Oh, do you mean this?" he asked as he created the sound once more.

"Yes," Hermione hissed.

"No…I don't think I'll stop," he replied and continued leaning against the chair, using his one hand to stay stable against the desk. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she watched him move back and forth, over and over again. Quickly she thought of ways she could kill him and throw his body over a lake or river. Who would miss him? Certainly not his parents who were both in prison or any of his so called friends who easily baited him out the first chance they got for money.

"Granger it's inappropriate to stare at someone like that," he said self-righteously.

"I believe you shouldn't talk about inappropriate behavior when you lack in that field. I would have assumed that coming from such a disciplinary family would teach you to have manners," she replied making sure that she dragged the words. The corners of his mouth flinched, presumably fighting back a comeback, as he watched her heatedly.

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me, so next time refrain from speaking about things that you have no knowledge in, Granger," he said calmly. She ignored him as she quickly dove back into the pages of her book. If he wanted to win this stupid argument then he will because she did not need or want a headache at this hour. As she swept away into the contents of the book, something blocked off the light source of the candle and Hermione snapped her head up to find Malfoy standing before her.

"Can I help you?"

"As a matter fact you can. I need a shower, do you have extra towels?" he asked.

Hermione slammed her book shut for the second time and got up to fetch him a towel. On her way out, she could have sworn she heard him chuckle but she couldn't figure a reason as to why he would. She found two white clean towels on the top shelf in her closet and she brought it down. Before she found her way out her room, the mirror once again halted her. She stared at herself and groaned. Not even with her hair tied could it change the fact that she looked miserable. Her extra large white t-shirt looked like it swallowed her whole and for some reason that made her feel worse. She loved her t-shirt but when she had a male company wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and boxers, she wanted to look more like a woman.

In that moment Hermione pulled her shirt over her head exposing her black panties. She had no bra on and instantly felt a cold breeze tickle her skin. She ran over to her dresser to find something appealing but still coverable. That's when she paused, what was she thinking? It was just Malfoy. And if she looked marvelous, he would turn a blind eye on her. Why was it suddenly, two in the morning, important to look more of a woman?

Hermione didn't know where these sudden thoughts popped up from but she couldn't argue against them. They were impeccably right. And in that exact moment, she ran back to her shirt on the floor but was suspended by a creaking noise. Half way leaning down, Hermione turned her head to the direction of the noise.

And her face went pale.

Standing before her, just as equally pale, was Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **The Guest

**Rated:** M

**Summary:** Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger's home.

**Chapter 2**

It was a big mistake. No, it was the worst mistake he had ever made. What in the world made him open the door? He wondered as he repeatedly blinked. He had two reactions to the sight before him. One was a natural reaction any male species would have and the other was a personal reaction. It wasn't everyday he would come across a view of a woman, so exposed. And it also wasn't everyday he saw Hermione Granger, topless.

He mentally cursed Merlin because the natural reaction he just received was noticeably standing erect through his very loose boxers. Of course, a certain bushy haired woman would not notice such things when she, herself, was in a horrible disposition. With her back half bent, face completely pale, eyes wide and glistening, Draco almost –if not at all- thought she was not bad to look at. She may be a muggleborn but at least, her body was womanly. His male instincts would have wanted him to continue studying his new discovery but Granger finally came into function.

Swiftly, she grabbed her t-shirt off the floor and covered her front from view. Her pale skin grew terribly red as her next reaction left Draco staggered. The white towel she had found for him was in his face quicker than a flying bludger. As he pulled the towel down from his face, her long slender legs moved across the room in hastily speed, pushing him back with her free hand and slamming the door very rudely on his face. Draco stood in the dark hall, alone and confused. Who was she to react in such a way? It wasn't like he asked for her to be half-naked. She was the one who went off to fetch him a towel. He was a Malfoy and he didn't like being kept waited. Patience was not one of his virtues and of course, so he took the matter into his own hands.

But did he regret what he saw? Not at all, he was a man of course. And men couldn't hate stumbling a cross such a show. He wasn't exactly happy about it but this could come to his advantage in the near future. With a small snide grin, Draco peered down to the towel in his hand. His mind held on the image though, her breasts were not the least bit bad to look at. He had always thought bras would make women's' features slightly saggy. But not her; they were full, firm and…perky?

"Shit, I do need a shower," he thought as he noticed he was still slightly erect.

Without a second to waste, Draco curtly moved across the small hall way to the very small bathroom. He rolled his eyes, if he was going to be stuck with Granger, the least she could have done was purchase a better place to call a home. He was not use to small appliances, small rooms, or small…anything. But what could he do about the circumstances? Draco slipped out of his sweat shirt lazily and stared at the mirror. He had a few faint marks across his left chest, in close proximity to his heart. His angry face had softened in memory of how the scars got there or how it felt getting it. He could never explain how he felt about anything anymore but he knew one thing for sure. He hated it.

Hatred towards his life was –in his opinion- incomparable. Who would have thought his life would shift so drastically in a matter of two years? One minute spending his time relaxing in his castle-like mansion and the next, suffocating in a small apartment –if you can call it that- of the last person he thought he'd communicate with after Hogwarts. Communication to him did not necessarily mean a direct civil conversation, it meant being within eye distance. And Draco Malfoy did not want to be in any distance whatsoever with those he blamed for the hell of a life he lived.

It felt like yesterday, when he attended his father's court hearing. Charges against his father were so many that the panel judges did not bother with listing them. It was beyond evident to the prosecutors and the Wizarding community that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. No sane person could disagree to that, not even Draco himself. The thought alone was repulsing. His father, the man who taught Draco to think, breathe and be just like himself was being placed in prison. Draco clearly remembered the jolt that swept through his veins as he fought back tears. There was so much likeness between his father and himself that he was surprised they didn't prosecute him as well. It was that moment that Draco realized something.

He was on his own, besides having his mother stringing along. He was left to defend himself and his family name. Left to continue on the legacy his father had forcefully placed upon him. And Draco was anxious. It was the same freedom and power that placed Lucius in this very situation in front of many disdained eyes.

Slowly he came back to reality from the creaking of the floor boards outside the bathroom. For a split second he wondered if Granger was checking up on him to see if he had really went off to shower. He would have loved to see her reaction if he suddenly decided to leave and not return. Certainly Mad-Eye Moody would have her head for not being on guard. That shall teach them a lesson to leave it to a girl to keep him 'safe'. Even if he wanted to leave and do as he pleased, he would never get anywhere far wandless. In a helpless sigh, he continued to undress. He turned on the faucet and when the temperature was right, he entered the shower. Water tickled his skin as he closed his eyes remembering that final night his father was being taken away to Azkaban.

He remembered watching the finale of the trial, remembered his father giving his only son one last meaningful look. 'Continue the legacy, do not mess up,' it screamed at him. Draco did not dare break eye contact as his father who was finally carried away by two Dementors into a door behind the judge panel. Draco remembered coming up with a conclusion that night as his mother and him went home silently. He was going to have to change things around in order not to end up in the very same predicament. But it was just a mere thought, not really much determination went through afterwards because he spent his whole summer of his sixth year helping his mother fight through the anger and humiliation, not the loss of a loved one but for dignity.

Suddenly a jet of cold water sprinkled his skin and the shock it left made him jump back, slip on the wet floor and bang his head against the white tile wall. He lay there for about a minute, watching splotches of black move in circles in front of his eyes. It luckily didn't give him a concussion but it left him dazed for a few more minutes when the water began to completely loose its substance of heat. Draco cursed as he sat up. Leave it to Granger to have a muggle faucet that doesn't have hot water for more then ten minutes. What happened to her magic? Was she completely a muggle outside of Hogwarts? Draco rolled his eyes because he be damned to care. All he wanted was to get out of the shower and complain to her the moment he laid his eyes on her.

Draco grabbed the towel he was given and wrapped it around his waist then cursed. He didn't even get to have a proper shower because of her damn water in her damn apartment. Angrily, and stupidly, he stepped out of the bathroom, walked down the hall and banged on her bedroom door. Hermione opened the door with a glint in her eyes and a visible smirk.

"Hello, Malfoy."

Draco suddenly caught on. She must have hexed the water when she was lurking outside the bathroom door. Grasping this Draco replied sourly, "Don't you dare hello me. You casted a spell on that bloody water haven't you? I could have died in your shower! And, I assure you, I do not want to die in your hell of an apartment let alone your shower!"

"Malfoy, now don't you think you're a being a tad bit juvenile?" Hermione said calmly. "I would never hex the water to become suddenly very cold. It wouldn't be my style."

Draco was very near maddening as he lifted his finger to say something when he couldn't think of anything. All his frustration went into clenching and unclenching his other hand.

"Is something the matter?" Hermione asked in a fake concerned voice. "You might want to dry off, wouldn't want to catch a cold, now would we?"

Draco finally found his voice and stared at Granger menacingly. "If you think that you could get away with that Granger, think again. Just because I have to slightly tolerate you does not mean I will allow you to play games with me." And with that, Draco stalled off into the living room where his belongings remained.

He was still very much angry. But fighting back without a wand wasn't going to get him anywhere which was why he began to plot away as he found himself a new pair of boxers to wear. By morning, he wanted to leave Granger staggered even if it meant burning her apartment down while he was at it.

* * *

**A/N:** Big thanks to my beta and friend, May :) Great job girl. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **The Guest

**Rated:** M

**Summary:** Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger's home.

**Chapter 3**

Hermione lightly pressed her head against her wooden door. A sigh escaped her slightly dry lips. She didn't know whether she should be paranoid for the rest of her life that Malfoy saw her naked or be pleased that she got revenge. Either way, she wasn't proud of herself. She was stooping to his level and Hermione knew better than to do something like that. A queasy feeling erupted from her stomach the moment she looked back at the spot, the center of her room, where she stood a few minutes ago.

In that very spot, he saw her naked and Hermione wanted nothing more than to wash off the feeling of a pervert's eyes watching her. But she didn't want to encounter him again. Not right now when he was frustrated and pissed at her. Hermione knowingly smiled at that. Good, she thought, let him be angry. She fiddled with her t-shirt as she bit her lower lip. Whenever she bit her lip, it was because she was thinking too hard. And right now, Hermione's thoughts plagued her.

What if Malfoy decided to tell everyone about seeing her naked? What if she could never look at herself again knowing Malfoy, of all people, saw her breasts? Uneasily, she walked over to her mirror and stared down at her chest. She hated the way they looked although they were not too big or small but she couldn't stand them. Hermione wasn't the type to marvel at her looks because she saw nothing good in them. She sadly groaned. What if Malfoy was in the living room right now laughing at her? He most likely found her breasts hideous as he always considered her ugly.

She brushed a curl that had fallen from its bon back behind her ear. Looking back at the door, she was afraid she could never face Malfoy again. Even if she had a minute ago, it was because anger had taken over her. She was furious that he had walked in on her when he had no right whatsoever. But now, all that shield of anger shattered, her true colors were showing. Slowly a cold shiver ran down her spine. This was going to be a long hell of a night, she thought. And before she could slip off her slippers and curl up in her bed, a knock came from her door.

"Now what," she muttered under her breath but did not move towards the sound. Instead she spoke up clearly, "What do you want?"

"There's something in your bloody living room making noise!" He yelled behind the door.

"What sort of noise?"

"Do I look like I work for the department of deciphering anonymous noise in a muggle living room!" He replied sarcastically.

"I'm coming!" Hermione said tiredly and dragged her feet towards the door, opened it and found no one in the hall. "Malfoy?" Hermione questioned looking down the hall towards the living room.

"Over here!" He shouted annoyingly and she followed. Once she entered the living room she found Malfoy looking around as though he lost something valuable to him.

"Well?" Hermione tapped on the floor clearly irritated. "Where's the big bad noise?"

"Do I fucking look like I make up shit? I heard something, blasted thing woke me up!" Malfoy said angrily.

"Well, sorry to say but I don't—"

But just as soon as she spoke, something tapped against the window and Hermione turned to look. She saw that it was a black owl with silver feathers at odd angles.

"What in the world?" She whispered to herself as both she and Malfoy walked over to the window. "That has got to be the most strangest—"

"Shut up and open the window!" Malfoy interrupted. She glared back but obeyed him nonetheless. She was curious as well but months of training taught her that she couldn't just trust any owl that sent her messages. The owl handed her the envelope and flew off into the distance. She stared at it as she read what was written on top.

_To: Draco Malfoy_

_35 Crescent Road_

_Apartment 6_

_Living Room_

Hermione quickly turned around and stared at Malfoy who was right behind her the entire time, towering over her shoulder to read as well. "It's for you," she said confused but didn't make the initiative to hand him over the letter.

"Nice job, now I know why they call you the brightest Witch of them all," Malfoy replied sarcastically and made a move to grab the letter from her hand. Hermione stepped back from him, letter in her clutches.

"It could be a trick. It could be cursed," she said.

"Well, that's a risk I'm willing to take. Hand it over!"

"No! Let me see if it could be read first."

"What?"

"I'll run a few tests and make sure it isn't hexed."

"How do I know you won't hex it while you go off to test it?"

"Malfoy," Hermione warned with cold eyes as she stepped out of the living room to go run her tests. While doing so, she couldn't help but wonder if Malfoy was staring down her chest the entire time. She was suddenly becoming so paranoid she didn't know what to do. She couldn't go on pretending it never happened because he would definitely bring it up somehow, someway. After she had tried a few spells, she walked back to the living room where Malfoy waited.

He didn't wait for her at all to hand it over and snatched it from her. She wondered who it could have been from with an owl that strange looking. She watched as his hands tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter. His grey eyes scanned it quickly once then paused to re-read.

"Who's it from?"

"None of your business," he replied while he still read.

"I have to know. It could be a trick or something."

"Back off!" Malfoy yelled now eyes glaring at her. "I maybe under your hospitality but don't mettle in my business."

"I am your guard. I have to unfortunately keep your arse safe," she kept her voice calm as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I don't give two shits. It was Dumbledore's stupid idea."

"Would you rather live on the streets?" Hermione suddenly shouted, "Because Merlin forbid, I would do that you know! You're such an insufferable, disrespectful little twit!"

Malfoy was about to respond when Hermione's phone rang out. Malfoy slightly jumped and said, ""that's the stupid noise I heard earlier!"

She darted her eyes toward the kitchen, where her phone was installed to the wall and walked over. On her way over, she glanced at the time. It was three o'clock in the morning. A time where everyone should be sleeping yet, someone was making her a phone call. She hesitated to pick up the phone at first but eventually did.

"Hello?"

"HERMIONE!" A male voice shouted in her ear. Hermione placed the phone away from her delicate ears.

"Who is this?" She asked.

"HERMIONE IT'S ME, RON!" He yelled once more. Hermione paused. Oh, of course it was Ron Weasley. Only he would shout in a phone in such a manner. He hadn't gotten use to the idea that people could clearly hear him over the phone without the shouting.

"Ron, please keep your voice down. How on earth did you reach me?"

"SORRY!" He shouted then the phone went dead for a second. She heard mumbling in the background as she waited for Ron to return.

"Hello?" Another male voice spoke.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes, it's me. Sorry about Ron. He can be a bit loud at times," Harry replied jokingly.

"Yes, I can see. Umm...how did you call me?"

"Phone booth, sorry if we woke you up."

"No, it's all right. I was up already."

"Because of Malfoy?"

"Congratulations you've just won a prize!" Hermione said sarcastically.

"That bad huh?"

"No, I can handle him but I can't wait for him to leave."

"We don't know why on earth you'd agree to this in the first place."

"Dumbledore asked. I couldn't say no. And besides, Malfoy needs our help. He's helped us before and you know that."

"Yeah and I still have a little trouble believing it at times."

"We all do."

"Hold on a second."

Hermione waited as she heard mumbling again.

"HELLO HERMIONE!" Ron said loudly.

"Merlin! Can you keep it down?" Hermione asked annoyed. She heard Harry telling him in the background to speak and not yell.

"Sorry. I'm not use to these things. They're really cool."

"Its okay, Ron."

"Hermione, I'm worried."

"I know."

"I really don't like the idea of Malfoy in your home."

"Neither do I."

"If he does anything you know what to do."

"Yes, hex his little arse into a million pieces."

"Or contact me and Harry."

"I like the first option."

"Just, please," Ron pleaded, "Anyways, we have to go."

"Take care." Then the phone went dead. Hermione heaved a sigh, she already missed their comfort. But before she could have the chance to reminisce, a loud crack came from the living room. Instantly, Hermione's her heart began to beat a million times a second.

* * *

**A/N:** I slightly edited this chapter. Nothing major though. . 


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **The Guest

**Rated:** M

**Summary:** Death Eaters are on the hunt to kill a traitor and in the mean time; the traitor makes himself comfortable in Hermione Granger's home.

**Chapter 4**

The ground, he speculated, was rather too dirty for his liking. It seemed that a nightly prowler had gone about muggle garbage and tipped them over one by one, causing the sidewalk and road to be filled with muggle rubbish. It was disgusting to say the least, but in all honesty he was rather happy he was out here among trash than among tainted blood.

And in just a few hours, he would be back among his own kind that he so dearly left behind. To think of it now, as he had every night, he hadn't the slightest idea why he ever opened his mouth that evening in Dumbledore's office two years ago. That was the beginning of this horrible ride. He ended up informing the man he supposedly hated more than Potter every dirty secret his father had trusted him upon. One by one, he listed off every Death Eater, Death Eater to be, and Death Eater retiree. In that moment, as his mouth rambled on and on, he was sure he was doing the right thing especially when Dumbledore's eyes lit up.

One would wonder, what in Merlin's name was he thinking, going against his father's wishes while he lay in a cell beckoning death to rid of him the torture he was receiving nightly by the dementors? The thing is, as much as he loved his dear crazy father, he feared his life and the life of his mother. She was not at all doing well after his father was sent away and he assumed that maybe, maybe this weird old coot headmaster could help his broken family. And of course, he did want to be on a winning side, but he never would have considered that running his mouth could supposedly save him.

And it had, temporarily.

For the two last years he spent in Hogwarts knowing Potter was out there saving the day as usual, Draco lived not fearing the worst. Draco rolled his eyes from the thought. Did Potter really like putting his life on the line constantly? If someone asked Draco to do the same not only would he laugh a long, dreadful and evil laugh, but he would also hex the person for even considering it. He cherished his life, so much he would do anything to prevent death.

Even if it meant being a tattletaler.

But little did he know at the time that tattletaling would put his life on the line. Someone tipped Lord Voldemort off that Draco had let Dumbledore know who the Death Eaters were behind the masks and in return, warned off any Death Eaters who have not been caught by the Ministry yet. The remaining ten Death Eaters than formed a small hunt-and-kill-Draco club after Voldemort was defeated in Draco's seventh year. But because of their reputation for the most wanted wizards; Draco was able to begin his journey of hiding.

Since Dumbledore and the Order decided to exploit his knowledge, he felt used. So in return, he used their resources to 'protect' himself and get their help to hide him until he thought of a better way to handle his very complex situation. But the way they treated him only made things worse for himself. For one thing, he was wandless. Thanks to Moody's belief that Draco would turn against them and he was stuck with Granger. Why they would pick her over any of the older members in the Order still left him clueless, but he didn't care as long as he had a roof over his head. He was sure at the time that using them was temporary and that thought alone made it bearable to be in Granger's company.

Selfish you are Draco, he thought as he kicked a broken bottle down the sidewalk and watched it roll to the road where no muggle contraptions called 'cars' spun by. It was empty, it was cold and he was fidgeting. Where was the bloody Knight Bus? Didn't they appear at a time like this?

Draco sighed. Of course not, they most know he was a Malfoy and supposedly rich enough to afford transportation. But for the hell of it, Draco took out Granger's wand that he had stolen while she was in the Kitchen and held it out. He had heard from some dirty bar-men in Knockturn Alley that all he had to do was stick his wand out and he did so. But for the second time, nothing occurred.

Angrily, Draco laid his trunk down on the street and sat on it. He was not planning to let street dirt touch his trousers; they were after all custom-made. He fished out the letter that was sticking out of his sweater pocket and re-read it.

_Draco,_

_Before you freak out on me I would like to reassure you that I did not hex this letter. That isn't my intention anyway. And I figured right now, the last thing you need is a nagging friend. But I'm a friend nonetheless. And as one, I give a 'flying fuck', as you kindly put it, about your whereabouts. I'm not about to rush to the Ministry or to your father's friends anytime soon. And I'm assuming you most likely blame me for the deep hole your in, but I promise you, I had absolutely nothing to do with it._

_I want you back here, with your family. I bet you're wondering, what family do I have left? You have me, Draco. I care about you and as much as you don't believe in love, I love you as well. I want you safe. So I have a proposition to make._

_I know you're hiding. I've checked your Gringotts account, you haven't taken any money out which draws to my next conclusion, you have help. Whether it's Potter, Dumbledore or a banshee, you do not need them or their sympathy's. _

_Remember the old Parkinson Cottage in Ireland? Well, I'm there right now. And I hope you would join me. I will help you hide if necessary. Although I believe what you have done was foolish, I'm willing to draw up solutions. We can make things better Draco. I've never lied to you before. So for the love of Merlin, stop running away from your problems and face them like a man. I will give you a week's time to think of about this for I will be going back to the Manor eventually. _

_Love,_

_The only person that cares,_

_Pansy_

Draco sighed and looked away from the letter. She was right. Pansy Parkinson was bloody right. She was the only person that cared from day one at Hogwarts. Obviously, he knew she had nothing to do with his irrational actions. Yet he had blocked off any contacts from Slytherin's after graduation. He had to. It was the only way at the time to keep himself safe. Dumbledore had this crazy idea that if he hid, the Death Eaters would eventually give up looking for him and find something else to do while Potter hoped that he could get his own hands on them.

That Potter was not normal. He had the venom of a monster once unleashed. Draco had some of that as well, but he was more practical. He would fight only if it concerned near death situations while Potter would run to danger. Merlin, he could be thick!

Anyhow, he wasn't going to think bout the Order anymore. They didn't need him and he didn't need them. He was only a burden. He had caused himself to be the number one enemy by opening his mouth and now he had to face the consequences; living forever in hiding. He snorted. Merlin, what had he gotten himself into?

Suddenly, and subtly the trees began swaying to an unknown wind factor. His sweater began flapping as well and he stood up worriedly. He stuck out his wand once more to protect him from whatever that was coming because he was certain something was coming his way. Paranoia took over him but before he could begin to spin around and wonder what was causing the ruffling of trees, a light beamed in his face and stopped right in front of him. Draco squinted and looked at what he knew to be the Knight Bus.

The doors flapped open quickly and a filthy, tall, scrawny man appeared. He looked at Draco then searched for something deep in his pocket and took it out.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus. I am your conductor for tonight." He pointed at his shirt. Draco did not care at all to hear the rest of his speech so he placed the wand in his back pocket, grabbed his trunk, pushed the man aside and entered the bus. The man quickly followed, shocked by Draco's actions and irritated.

"You certainly are a rude one."

"Are you the driver?" Draco suddenly asked.

"Well, umm…no."

"Then shut up and take me to King Cross Station!" Draco yelled.

"That will be fifteen sickles." He replied. Draco hadn't wasted anytime as he took out a small pouch he kept in his sweater pocket containing a few galleons he had for safe keeping. He handed over some silver, knowing it was more than enough and waited for the conductor to do his job. The man hesitated as he took the money and turned around than tapped on a window.

"Do you hear that Ernie? King Cross Station."

Draco was not expecting to be thrown half way down the bus and back as it sped off. He landed against a bed that moved and shook to every bump. While he forced himself to a comfortable sitting position, the host came over to him.

"Blonde hair, piercing eyes, bad attitude. A Malfoy."

"Is there a rule that says you must speak to the passengers?" Draco asked annoyed. The man was taken back by this and while his mouth remained open for a moment, Draco took a glance at his name tag: Stan Shunpike.

"There's no rule for that, but there are rules such as if one is high and mighty, they can pay for their own way to get to King Cross. You do not need our services and I could easily kick you off this bus."

"The Knight Bus was meant to provide emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard." Draco replied knowingly.

Stan couldn't continue the verbal argument and quickly left him alone. Draco spent the rest of the ride thinking to himself. Or more like self-pitying though he would never admit it. So he decided to think of something else. It was then that he wondered what Granger was doing. No doubt worrying her pants –scratch that, her shirt- off. He smirked smugly. He certainly left her a nice parting gift before he had apparated out of her apartment. Of course, he wished he was there to see her reaction but nothing ever went in his favor. He figured she was speaking to her boy toys on the muggle device he had once learned in Muggle Studies.

Once the driver came to a full stop, also dropping Draco on the floor and the metal of the bed hitting his hip bone, Stan signaled him to leave. Once he was out the bus, Stan also took the liberty of throwing his trunk out carelessly. Draco cursed and considered whether or not it was safe to cast a dangerous spell on Stan but after a long moment, sensibly decided against it. He picked up his trunk and strolled off. It was too early in the morning for Draco to get a ticket to Ireland so he stood at one of the muggle platforms and waited until the clock on the brick wall moved to seven o'clock in the morning: three hours and a half away. Oh, the joys of waiting.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, this is a very very late update and I'm super sorry. I haven't updated my other story and I will eventually but I've been busy with a few things, my opening of my personal/blog site and reading HBP! It was a wicked book minus the bad sub romance plot which I'm willing to over look. I was worried at first cause I thought I couldn't continue to write my stories because it is SO AU but I'm gonna continue anyway, with my head held high lol. 


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